


Our Short Little Lives

by low_battery_laptop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fictober 2019, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/low_battery_laptop/pseuds/low_battery_laptop
Summary: With the power to turn back time, Byleth falls into the habit of throwing himself into danger. It's efficient when he can manipulate time to keep himself alive.He tells himself it's all to protect his students, even if they think he's reckless. But even divine intervention has it's limits.Day Three of Fictober with the prompt 'Now? Now you listen to me?'.





	Our Short Little Lives

Byleth was a mercenary, through and through. No title of ‘Professor’ was going to change that, nor would it change the way he would throw himself into battle to get the job done. It was clear that Rhea and the other teachers did not approve of his methods. Even a few of his students expressed concern. He told them all the same thing: his actions, though dangerous, produced results. It was all he could tell them. If he started going around telling everyone that a short, pointy-eared girl living in his mind gifted him the power to turn back time, he would likely be condemned as insane. He would lose his position as a professor if that happened. 

And no matter how his feelings came to be, he actually cared for the Blue Lions. Byleth threw himself into the heart of the battle to keep them safe, too. His own death, he could change as easily as one could break a glass window with a rock. Over time, he become numb to the idea of his own death. It was no longer a thing to fear.

* * *

In the middle of the night, far from Garreg Mach, Byleth found himself restless. Rather than teaching that week, he had answered a call for help from a village to the north in the holy kingdom of Faergus. It was a place he had been once before, with Jeralt. The people that lived there were kind, and had gifted the mercenary band with warm beds and hot meals. Byleth couldn’t sit by and let them be terrorized after showing such kindness. They were also willing to pay the church for their services. 

So, his students, along with an army of about a hundred and fifty soldiers of the church began a three day march north. The night that found him sleepless was only the first. He knew should be resting, preparing for journey to come, but no matter what he did, sleep would not come to him. Restless nights were not uncommon, however. He worried for the future, worried for the lives of his students. As Byleth found his coat and slipped it over his shoulders, he wandered from his tent. 

He wished Jeralt was among the ranks of soldiers and knights. His father often saw right through him, knowing what Byleth was thinking about without so much of a word being spoken between the two of them. Jeralt also was far more competent at handling the range of emotions that came with being a professor. If he had been with them now, what would he have told him, Byleth wondered. Nothing came to mind. 

“You truly are helpless, aren’t you?” A familiar voice rang out in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the image of Sothis, the girl that haunted him. Byleth walked a bit further from the camp, and came to a short bluff. He sat at the edge, looking downward to the small stream that flowed below. 

“Perhaps I am,” he answered. Sothis sighed, and her image came to sit next to him. 

“I did not imagine one such as yourself would fret this much over the lives of these students as much as you are.”

“You are as surprised as I am,” Byleth said. “Responsibility such as this has never been mine to bear.” He paused. “But you of all people should know this.”

In the blink of an eye, Sothis was gone, and Byleth was left in silence. He looked to where she had been sitting, only to see movement to his left. His hand snapped to the knife at his side, but he calmed when he saw deep blue cloth in the moonlight. 

“Professor,” Dimitri greeted. “Forgive my intrusion. Were you speaking with someone just now?”

Byleth scrambled for an answer and bought himself a few precious seconds by getting to his feet, and dusting himself off. “I was… praying,” he lied.

“Oh,” Dimitri said. “I must admit I never saw you as the religious type.” 

“Sometimes it’s nice to feel as though you are speaking with someone, even if you’re alone.” There was, for a moment, a look in Dimitri’s eyes that Byleth couldn’t place. It nearly looked like pain, but he brushed it off. Even in the moonlight, it was dark. He could very well be seeing things that were simply not there at all. “Was there something else you needed, Dimitri?”

His student was shifting his weight from one foot to the other where he stood. Byleth had come to learn that several of his students acted that way when they were nervous, or had something weighing on their minds. 

“We- myself, and the others, I mean- have discussed this with you before but…” Dimitri’s voice trailed off for a moment. “Professor, I’d like to ask that you don’t charge off into battle alone. Your actions put you in great danger and I-... We all worry for you.”

Byleth sighed. There were no new answers he could give Dimitri. 

Much to his surprise, however, Dimitri continued. “It isn’t only that,” he said, voice a bit louder. “If you fall in battle, there will be no one left to lead us, to teach us. I know there are reasons for what you do, but you should think of your students for once!”

Byleth’s emotional mask cracked. He frowned, eyes narrowed. “I do think of you all. Each and every time we go to battle, it is my duty to come up with a plan that will keep each and every one of you alive.” 

Dimitri didn’t back down this time. In fact, he took a step forward, pushing himself in Byleth’s space. Was he trying to be intimidating? “And putting yourself in the line of fire is how you do that? There must be a better way.”

“No,” Byleth snapped. “This conversation ends here. I am your professor, and out here, I am your commander.” He was overstepping his own personal boundaries, but the crack was only getting bigger. “You, and the other students, have the training but you all are still far too green. But I have seen years of wars, of combat, and I have taken far more lives than you.” Byleth took a moment to breath, and to realize he too had stepped forward. Now, he was close enough to Dimitri to see the anger and fear in the eyes of the prince. “I continue to draw the fire of the enemy so that you may continue to draw breath.”

Dimitri would not relent, and held his ground, so Byleth stepped past him and started for his tent. Nothing more was said between them. 

* * *

Byleth did not sleep that night. By morning, he already felt exhaustion slow his senses. He forced himself to be on edge, riding at the head of the company as they cut a path through a thick blanket of fog. Each birdcall, every sound made in the distance, made him tense. For some time now, he felt as though they were being watched. He was grateful he rode alone. No one was close enough to see how his sword hand twitched at his side. 

Sunlight shone down through the fog, but even with the warmth of mid-morning, the fog persisted. As did the bad feeling in Byleth’s gut. He slowed his horse long enough to rejoin the company. Among those at the front, he found Ashe, and rode alongside him. 

“Does this fog feel strange to you?” he asked his student. Only after he spoke did he notice the bow in Ashe’s hands. So he wasn’t the only one that felt uneasy. 

“Yes,” Ashe replied. “It reminds me of when we faced Lord Lonato. This fog isn’t natural.”

“Then we’re being followed.”

As the words left Byleth’s mouth, he suddenly felt a pain in his right shoulder. He pulled himself back just as a second arrow flew past, and looked towards the fog. A soft  _ thump _ , followed by shouting from the soldiers behind him, drew his attention back to Ashe. Byleth looked down to where the boy had fallen. Red blood flowed from Ashe’s throat. 

The flow of time reversed. 

The image of a dying Ashe still in his mind, Byleth did not slow, but came to a stop. He drew his sword. “ _ Ambush! _ ” he cried. 

Again, he felt the pain of an arrow ripping its way into his arm, but the pain was ignored as he blindly charged into the fog. He quickly found the archer that had shot him, cutting him down with ease. The man wore no real uniform, only black leather armor. The bandits must have seen them coming. 

A war cry came from deep within the fog to his left, and Byleth turned as a man wielding an axe high above his head rushed him. The axe struck the armor of his horse, and as the bandit drew back his weapon to strike once again, Byleth lept to the ground. He blocked the second blow with his sword in one hand, and with the other, drew his dagger and stabbed into the gut of the bandit. It didn’t kill the man outright, but he was no longer a threat. 

Byleth ran for his horse, scrambling back into the saddle and rushing back towards the caravan. He broke off the length of the arrow in his shoulder, leaving the tip embedded in him. A healer could dig it out later, and the pain was already fading with the rush of adrenaline. 

Within the fog there was chaos. Even with his warning, the bandits were on even ground with the soldiers. Dimitri stood back to back with Dedue, both fending off attacks from all directions. Byleth rode up behind their attackers, cutting one down as he passed. Another arrow struck him as he rode through the battle, this time in the thigh. He felt the pain, felt the strenth in his leg fade. 

Time turned back once more. As he cut down one of the bandits that surrounded Dimitri and Dedue, he jumped from the back of his horse. His sword was driven into the back of a second bandit. Between the three of them, they made quick work of the remaining attackers, though a blade did graze Dimitri’s shoulder, staining the blue of his cape with red. Byleth nearly turned back time once more, almost acted on instinct, but he steadied himself. It was a scratch that would heal, not a death blow. 

In the few moments he had to think clearly, he took in the rest of the battle around him. Before, when they fought against Lord Lonato, there had been a mage controlling the fog around them. The bandits likely were doing the same, and if they were smart, their mage would be hidden among the trees. 

Dimitri called after him as Byleth made his way into the forest, but he ignored the prince. He had to focus. Dispelling the fog would give them the upper hand, and lead to fewer lost lives. So Byleth ran, blindly through the fog, guarding himself with his sword in front of him. 

Pain swelled up in his thigh once more. Byleth swore, and stumbled, but did not fall. Instead he hid himself, back pressed against the trunk of a large pine tree. The warm feeling of blood flowing down his leg faded as numbness took over. The loss of sensation was spreading rapidly, far too fast for a typical wound. It creeped up into his side, and down into the rest of his leg, until he could no longer stand. 

“Poison,” Byleth whispered to himself. “Wonderful.”

He struggled for a moment, but when Byleth found himself unable to fight against the paralysis overtaking his body, he shut his eyes, and time flowed backwards for a third time. 

But it seemed it was fate for him to be shot, and the power Sothis granted him was reaching its limits. Byleth turned back time once more in the woods, but never found the mage, or the archer that shot him. He slumped against another tree as the poison worked its way through him, and tried to force time back. Nothing came of it but a sharp pain in the back of his skull. Byleth reached out for Sothis, to beg her to come to his aid, but the girl didn’t speak. 

The sounds of steel clashing and the cries of soldiers grew distant. As hard as he tried to hold onto what little feeling he had left in him, Byleth couldn’t stop the paralysis. He gripped his sword in his left hand, as his right had grown numb. The more he struggled to keep himself aware of his surroundings, the more distant his mind became, until he found he could no longer keep his eyes open. Perhaps, he thought, it was his fate to die now. Divine mercy had its limits. 

* * *

Voices called out his name. Something was moving him, shaking him. He could faintly feel the press of a hand on his left shoulder. Byleth tried to grip his sword, but found there was no longer a weapon in his hand. But he could move. He opened his eyes to a blurred world. Golden and blue mixed together before him. 

“--find Mercedes, quick--,” 

Byleth blinked to bring the world into focus. Everything was spinning around him. 

“--fessor? Professor?”

The voice belonged to Dimitri. So did the hand upon his shoulder. 

“Dimitri…” Byleth groaned. As his senses returned to him, pain came along with it. Panic soon followed, not for himself, but for his students. “Is everyone--”

“They’re alive,” Dimitri said, cutting him off. “You should worry about yourself.”

Byleth breathed out a laugh, and though Dimitri’s face was still a blur, he was sure his expression was not a happy one. “Perhaps you were right after all,” he admitted. 

“Now you listen to me?” Dimitri sighed. “This never would have happened if you had stayed on the road.”

In the state he was in, still only half conscious, he nearly told Dimitri that he had tried to prevent this. Nearly told him he turned back time. Byleth decided it was best if he didn’t speak at all, lest he let secrets slip. He turned his head and looked out into the forest. There was no more fog, and far from where he sat, there was the body of a man in dark robes, a spear sticking up through his chest. 

Warmth surrounded him. It took Byleth a moment to realize Dimitri was embracing him, arms wrapped tightly around him. 

“Forgive me, professor. But I thought you were dead.” 

His arms were still heavy, but Byleth managed to raise them up and return the hug. The weight of his actions was catching up to him. He cared, perhaps far too much, for his students, but he hardly considered the possibility that they returned those feelings. What a fool he had been. 

Dimitri pulled away as the sound of footsteps grew louder in the forest. A bloodstained Mercedes appeared from around the tree, followed by Ashe. Byleth opened his mouth, to ask if she was alright, but she shushed him. 

“I’m fine, professor. It’s not my blood.”

She wasted no time in digging out the broken arrow from his shoulder. The pain burned. Byleth grasped at anything he could to indure the pain, and found Dimitri’s hand in his own. He did not let go until both arrows were pulled from him, and the wounds were closed with magic. But even though he no longer bled, Byleth struggled to stand. Dimitri stood with him, helping to keep him on his feet. 

“It will take more time for the poison to leave your body completely,” Mercedes told him. “But you should be better by nightfall.”

Byleth thanked her, and she smiled. The four of them returned to the caravan, Byleth still leaning on Dimitri for support. At first, he thought he would be placed in one of the wagons with the rest of the injured soldiers, but Dimitri led him towards the horses instead. 

Wordlessly, he mounted his horse, then helped the professor up to sit in front of him. It seemed his students had made a plan of their own after the battle. Dimitri, along with Dedue and Felix, were to ride ahead towards the town and assess the situation there. They were hopeful that the bandits that attacked them were the same as the ones they had been hired to kill, but they couldn’t know for sure. The rest would care for the wounded, while Ingrid and Sylvain would take a small party back to Garreg Mach with the bodies of the dead. 

Byleth was wary of the danger involved in splitting up their company, but when he considered the circumstances, he didn’t object to it. 

“And why have you decided to take me along with you?” he inquired, after everything had been explained to him. 

“I wish to personally see to it that you don’t put yourself in harms way,” Dimitri said. “Again.”

Old habits did die hard in Byleth, and even with stiff legs, he knew if they were to be attacked again he would fall into the rhythm of throwing himself into battle. 

“Very well.”

They left as soon as Felix and Dedue mounted their horses, and rode hard along the road until their horses were exhausted. When they did stop to rest, Dimitri kept a ways back from the others, and for a brief moment, slipped his hand into Byleth’s, and squeezed. 

“How are you feeling, professor?” he asked. 

Byleth moved his legs. More feeling was returning to them, though he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to be able to stand yet. Mercedes had said it would take a while, and it was hardly noon. 

“A bit better,” he answered. Dimitri hummed, sounding pleased. Byleth could have sworn he felt the gentle press of a kiss to the back of his head.

Nothing more needed to be said. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Bastille lyrics for the title, ambient music playlists for helping me focus, and my best friend for keeping me hyped for this whole Fictober thing (even though I'm definitely going to miss a few days and prompts). Oh, and happy National Boyfriend Day to Dimitri, who may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but we all love him anyway.
> 
> If you liked this, have twitter, and want to watch me suffer through writing and editing in real time, I'm over at @lowbatlaptop.


End file.
